Portals And Princesses
by Dubrovnik
Summary: Oh, fantastic, it's Tellius. First order of business: where in hell am I, exactly? Oh, it's Melior... before Daein invades. Shiiiiit. Self Insert, includes Stands from JoJo.
1. Chapter 1

**I felt like making this. Whole thing's probably gonna be improvised and unplanned, because I'm lazy. If it turns out well, it does. This is for fun.**

* * *

I'm not entirely sure how I got here. I mean, it couldn't be reincarnation, because I was fifteen years short of a new life, and these clothes definitely aren't from around here. So, something exceptionalis whatmust've happened.

The most recent thing I remember from before my arrival was a car coming at me, and the overwhelming thoughtof _get away I have to get away_ filling me. Then, something purple. And pain. Lots of pain.

After that, the sky. No more pain when I was lying in an alleyway, looking at the sky. I was obviously confused- basic questions like ' _Where the fuck am I?'_ and its ilk running through my head.

I got up, and look out at the entrance to the alley. What looked to be a bustling marketplace from ye olde days lay before me. I blinked, confused, and slowly stepped out. Nobody paid any attention to me. Suddenly, a mounted soldier began to gallop through the marketplace.

"ALL ABLE-BODIED MEN! TO THE BARRACKS! MELIOR IS UNDER ATTACK! DAEIN IS ATTACKING!"

...Daein. No fucking way. Fuck. SHIT! No, Conor, calm. Alright, it seems Crimea is conscripting the male population to fight back against Daein.

 _Like it'll make a difference._

Shut up, cynicism. Reasonably speaking, my two options are:

A. Assist in the defense of Melior, and probably die doing so.

B. Run the fuck away, and just avoid the entire conflict.

I'm leaning towards option B, in all honesty; though my more virtuous side is crying in protest of that. Decisions, decisions.

"You there! What are you doing? All men were ordered to the barracks!" A cavalier with a shock of red hair rode up to me. I blinked, and noticed the now-empty marketplace. Looks like my decision was made for me.

Wait, was that m'boy _Kieran_?

No! No time to fanboy. I need to focus. "I- uh- sorry, but I just arrived from- errr- a small town out, ahem, west and I don't know where to go." I stutter out, still a little stunned at the arrival of _Kieran_.

"Oh! My apologies for yelling. I'll show you the way. Come with me." Kieran sheepishly states, an apologetic smile upon his face. He turns his horse and has it trot in some direction, which I follow.

We make occasional stops to lead any other men that don't know the way, until we arrive at the barracks. After a few tense minutes of waiting for more arrivals, the commander who I can't quite see begins to shout.

"FORM THREE LINES AT THE THREE DOORS OF THE BARRACKS! YOU WILL BE DISTRIBUTED ARMOR AND WEAPONS HERE!" Damn, that's loud. I quickly push my way to the front of the closest line, and take stock of my weapon options.

Swords, axes, lances, shields, but no bows. Too much training for bows, I guess. I quickly grab a sword and shield, and a set of leather armor.

I look around for somewhere to put on the armor; a soldier chuckles and gestures to an area where a couple other guys are putting on armor. I walk over there, and promptly realize I have no idea how to put armor on.

"Shit," I mutter. I shake my head, and begin the struggle.

It's pretty futile beyond the boots and helmet, but after what must've been ten minutes of it, I've got the full set on. A proud full-toothed grin stretched across my face, but that quickly disappears as I notice one of the nearby soldiers resisting the  
/urge to break down laughing.

"Yeah, yeah, it's hilarious, I get it." I glare at the soldier. It's enough to make him reduce the chuckling to a simple smile.

The soldier proceeds to school his expression and gives me a serious look. "You're assigned to Fifth Platoon,led by Captain Kieran. He's the redhead with a horse, right over there." He's wildly gesturing over at Kieran.

I nod, walking up to the axeman. "Hey, uh, Captain Kieran. I've been assigned to your platoon, I believe." I awkwardly state.

Kieran grants me a boisterous grin and gallantly shouts, "Indeed you have, my good man! Welcome to the Fifth Platoon!"

Didn't Kieran's entire Platoon get wrecked by Daein? I can't remember how, though. In any case, _fuuuuuuuuck_.

Kieran, thankfully, doesn't question my look of dread and begins to greet the other new members of his Platoon- conscripts like me. Looks like Kieran's just a temporary Captain rather than a real one.

I carefully study my fellow conscripts and blink as I recognize Brom and Nephenee, who seem to be holding a steady conversation. I consider going over and talking to them, but I don't want to interrupt them.

"MEN OF CRIMEA!"

Oh, hey, it's Mister Leader Man.

"TODAY, WE FIGHT FOR CRIMEA! TODAY, WE LIVE FOR CRIMEA! TODAY, WE DIE FOR CRIMEA! AND TODAY, THE DAEIN INVADERS WILL KNOW THAT CRIMEA IS POWERFUL!"

Personally, I thought the speech wasn't so great, but everybody else disagreed. A load roar arose from the crowd of conscripts, and I couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement and let out a yell myself.

Kieran quickly rallies his Platoon and points his axe to the castle gate. I can only barely hear his shout of "WE WILL GUARD THE CASTLE GATE, FIFTH PLATOON!" over the still-yelling army.

The total group of maybe twenty two soldiers (counting me) follow after the axe wielder. Once we arrive at the castle gate, Kieran calls out to us to take up various defensive positions.

However, the castle gate creaks open, and a green haired woman in an orange dress slips out, closely followed by a bright teal haired swordswoman.

...Elincia and Lu- oh fuck, I remember what happened to Kieran's troops now.

* * *

 **A bit rushed, I'll admit. I wrote it at school, so three times that I got to write it were spaced out. Might come back later to touch up on it if I feel like it. Kinda short and fast-paced, though.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 Time. Looks like our protagonist is a bit terrified, as well.  
**

* * *

Okay, uh, think. Kieran's Platoon got wiped out escorting Princess fuckin' Elincia to Gallia. Objective: Get the named characters out alive. That'd be myself, Kieran, Elincia, Brom and Nephenee. Should I try to play myself off as a seer? No, that always fucks Self-Inserts over. No damn point. I'll just... try my best. I've got zero prior combat experience and, last I checked, I don't have any random abilities I didn't have before.

While I've been brainstorming, Lucia has initiated a hushed conversation with Kieran. I decided to put my planning on the backburner, though I knew I shouldn't. Kieran's expression has grown more and more... shocked... as the discussion continued.

Then, Kieran gained a determined look.

He turned to us and bellowed out, "FIFTH PLATOON! WE HAVE AN ASSIGNMENT!" The entire group snapped to attention- Kieran had a commanding presence. "GENERAL GEOFFREY OF THE ROYAL KNIGHTS SHALL BE TAKING OVER MY POSITION! WE ARE TO ESCORT HER HIGHNESS-" he pauses to gesture to Elincia- "TO GALLIA!"

A murmur spread throughout my fellow conscripts- nobody recognized Elincia as a royal. Figures.

Of course, not soon after this announcement, Geoffrey, mounted, trots out from inside the castle. Kieran nods to him, and Geoffrey pulls Elincia onto his horse.

Speak of Elincia, she looks absolutely terrified. She's shaking, her eyes are wide and brimming with tears, and I _swear_ she's sweating. That last one's not for sure, though.

"SOLDIERS OF THE FIFTH PLATOON! HEAR ME! WE SHALL EXIT THROUGH THE EAST GATE, AND MAKE DUE COURSE TO GALLIA WITH GREAT SPEED!" Geoffrey's even more commanding and loud than Kieran, holy shit. Elincia's ears must be bleeding.

Anyways, me and my fellow conscripts fall in line and begin to move rather speedily to what I presume is the East Gate. Geoffrey's shouting orders to the slower among us- Brom and his fellow knights- and those who are blocking the path to the gate.

Once we get out of the city, it really starts to set in how bad my situation is. I can just barely see the Daein war camp in the distance; a few wyvern riders are swooping around, probably training or something. For a moment I swear I can see some moveme- wait, no, Daein's forming ranks. Shit, we need to sp-

"MOVE WITH HASTE, SOLDIERS! WE CANNOT BE CAUGHT IN DAEIN'S ASSAULT!" The effect is instantaneous- everybody in the platoon is practically sprinting now. I'm running out of stamina pretty fast, at that. My tiredness doesn't last too long once I remember that if I slow down, I'll be killed by enemy soldiers in an instant.

Due to the quick pace, it isn't too long before we've arrived at some forest trail, and Geoffrey gives the order for us to slow down. Thank fuck for that, too, I was starting to get tired despite the adrenaline. Of course, I don't stop. Nobody stops, we can't stop, because I know that Daein is pursuing us, and all the others are too paranoid of exactly that to stop.

...

...

...

It's been a few hour of steady marching, now. I'm unsure as to how far from the capital we are, nor how close we are to the next battle. My paranoia is rising with each passing moment. The pursuing troops should be attacking soon, soon, soon...

...

...

...

"CHAAAAAAAAAAAAARGE!" An exceptionally loud war cry sounds out from behind us. I've been on alert for the entire march- some of the other haev relaxed and foolishly let their guard down- so I swing around and ready myself at the impending charge.

A small wave of cavalry is barreling down upon us- I quietly wish I'd grabbed a spear to stop something like this, but alas, I'd chosen the blade. I simply raise my shield and prepare for impact.

I'm nearly launched backwards from the impact; I stumble backwards a bit but manage to right myself before falling. Some Daein Soldiers- the class- are now charging out, as well, with a couple archers strategically firing arrows.

 _Shit, shit, sunnuvabitch._

Luckily for me, nobody's singled me out yet, so I can determine who's dead.

I see at least five Crimeans lying dead or wounded on the ground, and also see Kieran and Geoffrey effortlessly making mincemeat out of the enemy cavaliers. Kieran's probably just succeeding because weapon triangle.

Oh- SHIT! I barely sidestep a jab from an enemy spearman and I instinctively swing my sword at the man's neck.

To be honest, I didn't expect to hit, much less kill.

The soldier stumbles back, half his neck gorily wrenched from his body, blood spurting out of his wound in a disgusting fashion.

I barely hold in the urge to puke at the sight.

My opponent looks at me, terrified, and lets out a gurgle.

He collapses, blood pooling around his fresh corpse.

I don't have the time to register that _holy shit I just murdered somebody_ because I have to raise my shield to block the axe of a remarkably enraged Fighter. His axe clangs off my metal shield and I instantly go to stab him in the stomach, but before I can do so, he punches me right in the face.

I stumble back, clutching at my new injury, and realize he's once again bringing down the axe.

Fuck, no time to block.

 **FUCK!**

 _Click!_

I'm suddenly behind the Fighter, who is now shouting confused expletives. I'm not one to waste opportunities, so I quickly stab him in the back.

The axeman stumbles off, my blade, and turns his terror-filled eyes upon me.

"D-demon!" He shouts out, teetering back. He falls flat on his back, and scrambles away from me.

I... can I do that again?

 _Click!_

I'm practically standing on top of him. The man screams, and I hesitate, before plunging my sword into his skull.

This time, I fall to my knees and vomit.

* * *

 **So, his stand. Won't say anything about it's abilities, so feel free to theorize, but it's kinda situational, depending on how you look at it.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Shame I released this before anybody put a theory in a review. Also, I'll thank people for favoriting at the ending note.**

* * *

I waste a few precious moments on my knees, vomiting my guts out. Shit, my legs are covered in puke now. That's absolutely disgusting.

Without wasting another second, I shakily rise to my feet and ready my weaponry. I can't let myself break down like that again. I can't _ever_ let that happen again.

I steel myself, and suddenly realize there's a spear poking its way through my chest. Wow, uh, that really hurts.

That hurts really fucking bad. That hurts so fucking much. I feel myself stumble forwards as the soldier who stabbed me kicks me in the back, and I fall on my knees, and then to the cold dirt. The wet-with-blood dirt. The muddied-by-blood dirt. Bloodied by _my_ blood, now.

I can't think rationally through this pain...

 _Click!_

Suddenly, I'm no longer in pain. Not only that, but I'm also positioned behind the man who just injured me. I recklessly slap a hand to my chest. Nothing- no pain, except for the slight jolt of hitting myself. I grin widely.

By now, the Daein man has already turned, a fearful determination stretched across his face.

The spearman looks me in the eyes, and he steels his gaze.

"Demon. I'll stab you. I'll impale you, and I'll stab you again. I'll stab you so many times that you'll just get tired of getting stabbed and just DIE!" he wildly roars, thrusting his spear with reckless abandon towards my chest.

I grimace. "Demon? The fuck are you trying to say here? I'm not special. I'm quite sure I'm just an average soldier." he doesn't respond as I deflect his spear with my shield and swing my blade towards his torso as quickly as I can manage.

I'm not a demon- that's ridiculous. I just have a weird ability, that's all. A bizarre ability.

While I'm half-trying to convince myself that _no, I'm not a demon_ , this guy blocked my slash with his own shield and leaped back. That's fucking bullshit, man. He once again jabs his spear at me, but this time, I shove it to the side with my shield and have the sudden thought to slam my boot down on the shaft of the lance. I'm unsuccessful in breaking it, but I do hear a satisfying _Crack!_ that tells me I've at least damaged it.

My opponent grimaces and hatefully glares at me. "I don't need a spear to kill you. I don't need anything to kill you. I'll just... I'll just!" he descend into maddened ramblings, likely brought on by the fact that he saw his friends get murdered in front of them and proceeding to be shut down for his revenge.

I force my feeling of guilt down after that thought- no time to be breaking down- and brandish my sword, ready to initiate a mercy kill.

I'm quite surprised to find his hands around my throat with crazed cries of "I'LL KILL YOU, DEMON! I WILL KILL YOU!"

For a moment, I let out a few sounds, before I attempt to use my ability.

 _Click!_

I'm still being strangled by him. Shit. FUCK! SHIT!

I'm stuck panicking for a couple seconds. but then I remember that I'm holding a sword, and I gut him. Oh, that's revolting, his intestines are now spilling out over my lower body. He won't stop choking me.

He won't let go.

This guy's really lost it, huh?

So... this is how it ends. Some random, miscellaneous soldier lost it after I bested his friend and strangled me despite my efforts.

I mean, hey, I did pretty well, given that I was stuck in Kieran's platoon. You know, the one that got _demolished_ by this very attack.

I sorta grin and stare into the crazed eyes of my to-be killer. "You got me," I manage out through his grip, "and you did a damn good job." Might as well try to fuck with his head while I'm dying.

The edges of my vision are getting darker darkda _rkdaRKDARKDAR-_

Suddenly, my vision is reddened. I reach up- unimpeded- and touch my face. Blood, and lots of it. I once again shove down my urge to barf all over the place. I clear my eyes of all the gore- yes, gore, there were a few chunks of something on my face- and I look around confusedly.

At my feet is my would-be killer; at least, I think he is, given that his head has been messily removed.

The corpse is positioned between myself and... Kieran- yeah, Kieran. I shakily grin at the redhead. "H-hey." I muster. I'm barely retaining control of my bowels at the moment, gimme a break.

"Have no fear, fellow Crimean! We guard her highness, so it is impossible that we could fail! Now, make haste! To victory!" Kieran shouts, raising his axe and pointing out to the enemy cavalry, who have just regrouped for a second charge. "Raise your shield, comrade! Brace yourself!"

"Ugh... shit. You got it, sir." I sigh, slowly raising my shield and gritting my teeth. My shield- it's made of metal, by the way- is dented from the last assault. I take a moment to study the battlefield.

I see flashes of Geoffrey and his horse practically dancing around, bodies dropping around him. I see Nephenee and Brom are teaming up against enemy soldiers to great effect, and there are also a couple scattered Crimeans still fighting.

On the other side, I can see that we're hopelessly outnumbered. At least twenty cavaliers are preparing to charge down what remains of the Fifth Platoon, and that's not to mention the maybe forty-odd other soldiers of varying classes also participating in the battle, being massacred by Geoffrey or not. Let's see... I'm paired with Kieran, Brom and Nephenee are together, and Geoffrey's got El- wait, where is Elincia?

I glance at Kieran and ask, "Where'd that royal lady go? She's not with the general." _Act like you don't know anything, Conor._

Kieran scrunches his brow for a second before answering. "Ah, you mean her highness Princess Elincia! Geoffrey decided it would be best that she should go on ahead, as to prevent her from capture should we be defeated. Of course, there's no need to be demoralized- we will not lose, and shall catch up with her highness shortly." Kieran flashes me a confident grin that quickly fades into a determined look. "The enemy is charging. Prepare yourself!"

I once again steel myself against the coming impact. Maybe three of them are coming at me. The closest cavalier is 10 yards away... eight... five... two...

 _BANG!_

I nearly stagger backward, but I hold my ground and barely raise my shield in time for the next hit.

 _CLANG!_

This time, I do stumble back, and I leap to the side, closer to Kieran, to avoid the couched lance that was about to impale me. I fall to the ground, but I manage to get up before somebody makes sure I stay down.

Kieran is right next to me, panting. "Good work, my friend!" He grins. "We may yet defeat them! Come now, let us join up with our brothers and sister in arms!"

We cautiously make our way over to Nephenee, Brom, and one other miscellaneous Crimean who had the same idea as us. Not too soon after, Geoffrey and another soldier cut their way over to us.

This'll be our last stand, I suppose.

I suppose this could be where I die.

I suppose this could be where we all die.

I suppose this could be where this entire timeline gets fucked up, for some reason or another.

* * *

 **This one was written a lot more slowly than the last two chapters. Anyways...**

 **Thank you to:**

 **juanpablobro, for favoriting and following both this story and myself as an author.**

 **Nalsala, for favoriting this story.**

 **You guys are awesome, and probably don't realize how empowering the first few favorites of a story are. Truly, thank you.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm gonna be putting ideas I came up with for the plot in the end note. They probably won't make their way in.**

* * *

I take stock of our 'last stand' for one last time. There're seven of us, and of the named characters we have Geoffrey, Kieran, Brom, Nephenee, and myself. Unless I don't count as a named character, which you could argue I don't. Anyways, in terms of classes, we've got the Myrmidon-Soldier of Nephenee, the Lance Knight of Brom, Geoffrey the God-Paladin, Kieran the Axe-Cavalier, and myself as some weird dude with a, frankly, absolutely disgustingly broken ability. intelligent systems, ability op pls nerf.

Geoffry, too, had been assessing the situation, from what I can tell, and his expression is certainly grim. "Soldiers. I ask for your names," he says, his voice as melancholy as his expression.

Kieran's expression sharpens; he knows what's going on here. "Sir. I am Kieran." He's uncharacteristically quiet.

The cavalier's seriousness seems to strike a chord with the rest of the platoon, as looks of realization dawn on everybody's faces.

I simply grin and lazily salute. "Conor Kyser, General. A pleasure."

Brom introduces both himself and Nephenee; I guess Nephenee fears embarrassment even now, which is kind of endearing.

One of the nameless men pipes up. He's got a blue cloak and blonde hair. "Name's Caen, and this is my brother Roubaix!" Caen, like me, is cheerfully grinning in the face of death. Wonderful, a kindred spirit. Roubaix, wearing blue... leather armor? nods affirmatively at his brother's words.

Geoffrey nods silently, then thinks for a moment, if his scrunched brow is anything to go by.

Turns out, Caen is a mage and Roubaix is an archer. I guess Caen must've been a scholar or something, before conscription.

Geoffrey quickly begins throwing out orders. Brom, Nephenee, and I are making up the small frontline, with Brom at the center and Nephenee and I on the flanks. Geoffrey had Caen join Kieran on his horse, and Roubaix with Geoffrey, for a mobile ranged force. Or something, I think that's what they're doing. Anyways, the mounted units are supposed to keep pressure off me and Nephenee so the flanks don't fold and get Brom killed.

During this admittedly short planning, Kieran and I both insisted that should we begin to lose, Geoffrey flee and catch up with Elincia, for ' _Her highness's safety'_ and whatnot. I was surprised to find that Geoffrey actually agreed- a side effect of being childhood friends with the princess, I suppose. I'd figured he'd refuse to do so due to honor or some related bullshittery.

We'd only just finished taking formation when the Daein cavalry began their next charge, followed shortly by the infantry charge. I noted that the enemy cavalry had dropped by at least eight since the last charge, and I took a bit of satisfaction in that fact. I think I'll count the yards again.

Twenty yards...

...

Ten yards...

Seven...

Four...

Three...

Two...

 _CLANG!_

Unlike the previous charge, I actually had good footing. I held my ground by a much easier margin by comparison. Here comes the next-

 _BANG!_

I have to take a moment to readjust my stance after that hit, and luckily I finish said adjustment before-

 _CRACK! (CLANG!)_

FUCK! SHIT, I THINK MY HAND JUST BROKE! FUUUUUUHUHUHUCK! Arrrgh... okay, okay, it's fine, I didn't get skewered or anything... all I gotta do is...

 _Click!_

Whew! No more injury. Thank fuck. Oh, hey, Brom is looking at me oddly- oh, can people hear that clicking noise? It is kind of jarring, now that I put some thought into it. The click sounds kind of like a lower-pitched rendition of a lighter being ignited. Oh, and it's much louder. I don't know if the noise follows me or not- I'd have to reveal the ability to really test that- but it is definitely jarring to hear. I'd figured people wouldn't hear it because all the enemy soldiers never paid it any mind.

Kinda weird, really.

Anyways!

Brom and Nephenee are fine, and I see maybe five or so cavaliers lying around with varying injuries. Looks like our own mounted units are doing pretty well.

Regardless, the enemy infantry have pretty much arrived, only a little ways away before combat starts. I feel _something_ rush through me. Determination? Adrenaline? Gah, whatever. I'll fuckin' live through this shit, I'm guaranteeing that.

The first foe that I'm faced with is expecting me to remain defensive, but I'm not stupid enough for that. Or smart enough, really. Whatever. I lunge forward and thrust my sword towards his chest.

He was already stepping back, so I only get a shallow wound, but hey, it's a hit. He goes to slam his shield into my overextended arms, but I lurch back, just barely avoiding it. I suddenly have an idea- this guy's decent, but not great, so...

I swing my weapon in a lazy manner, and he quickly moves to block it. Ha, jokes on you! I sock him in the face, and he clutches at his nose, cursing. That's all the opening I need. I grin, and successfully resist the urge to shout a crit quote because this isn't Awakening-on, it's Tellius.

Fuck, why can't I have a clean kill? I take out a portion of his neck and _oh god he's gurgling I hate that so much_.

As I stand in disgust at the display, I barely register an enemy cavalier in my peripheral vision. I launch myself out of his charge, the lance barreling right through the space my chest had just occupied. Fuck, that was close.

I'm rebalancing myself when another soldier decided to pick a fight with me- this one's got an axe. I frown, fucking axemen are stupid fucking strong.

Once again, I go for the first strike, but at the last second I slip back. Good call, too, because there's a swung axe where my head would've been. Unfortunately for my good axe-wielding friend, he's overextended himself. I stab my blade into his chest has quickly as I can make myself attack, and luckily, it connects well enou-

Fuck it's stuck. I got the guy, but my sword's stuck. I struggle with it for a few seconds, and I pull it out of the guy's fresh corpse with a cry of triumph.

Well. Um. It seems I've been impaled yet again. Ow. Lots of ow. Many ow. Many, many ow. Click! CLICKCLICKCLIIIIICK!

 _Click!_

Oh, thank whatever-deity-Tellians-worship-because-I-can't-remember.

I click to just after I'd freed my sword, so I'm under the lance that'd impaled me. I take a swing- with my sword- at my adversary's legs, and actually take out his kneecap. I wonder if getting your kneecap sliced by a sword or bashed in by a bat hurts more.

Eh, that'll never be answered, that's for sure.

My opponent yells and falls to the ground, unable to stand because kneecap slicing just occurred.

Glorious.

I'm... starting to get tired. I push myself to my feet- I'd fallen in order to pull off the kneecap slicing- and proceed to mercy kill my impaler.

Fuckin' dickweed.

We're still outnumbered around seven or eight to one. We're fucked, aren't we? We're totally fucked, and my presence didn't change jack shit.

The battle slowly becomes... automatic, I guess. I'm not really thinking anymore, it's all instinct at this point. My arm moves my sword in a swing or a stab and I don't really acknowledge it. My legs move me from danger without a thought. I click without a moment's notice.

Then, all too suddenly, my instinct leaves me. I realize how bad the situation's gotten. Geoffrey and Roubaix are gone, to where I haven't the slightest. I barely see the red cloak of Caen lying nearby. Wait, no, wasn't it blue? Fucking shit, he's dead, isn't he? Shiiiiit. I sort of process that I can't see Kieran or Brom or Nephenee anywhere at all. I've lost. _We've_ lost. Fucking ass shit damn it all. I'm surrounded by maybe fifteen enemy soldiers. No hope here.

But, somebody starts pushing through the soldiers, shouting for them to move out of the way.

A Knight- the class- stand before me, glaring. His armor is Daien black, highlighted by golden adornments. Short, well-kept green hair that flows to the right- his left- of his chiseled face. Guy's actually pretty handsome, I won't lie. Oh, hey, a forest green cape.

"So you're the one these fools can't beat." He looks quite pissed. He's glaring pretty angrily.

"I guess so." I shrug. "I'm just trying to not die, is all."

"You're worth fighting, given how many of my men you've killed. My name is Maijin, captain of this little group that you've cut us down to. Now, give me yours, hm?" He glares, but now there's a bit of excitement and curiosity. Figures.

"The name's Conor. Conor Kyser. This may be my last fight or yours, but either way, I'll definitely give you an exciting one." I raise my sword and shield. I need to focus if I don't want to die.

"Fantastic." Maijin grins widely, pulling out a lance- no, a javelin- from a pouch. "You better live up to that statement."

"Oh, I will." I grin back.

As soon as I end that sentence, he throws his javelin at me, swiftly pulling out a second as he charges me. I raise my shield and the projectile clatters down next to me.

I barely jump to the side as Maijin thrusts his weapon towards my gut. I try to take advantage of the opening, but his shield is already guarding him against harm. He once again attempts to stab me.

Well, 'attempt' is a bad word. He _does stab_ me.

"Pah! You call yourself an exciting battle? Easy! I'm disgusted with you, men!" Maijin is pissed with a side of angry. This guy must love a good fight, damn.

"I'm not finished yet!" I swing my blade towards his neck, as he's dropped his guard in his outrage. Unfortunately...

"Not that easy to catch me off guard, _weakling_." He hisses, holding my wrist in an iron grip. Fuck, that reall- oh, he's squeezing and I can feel bones breaking.

I shakily grin. "Not that easy to get me in a bad spot."

 _Click!_

And I'm behind him, already lunging forwards for his neck, the only really vulnerable place on his body. Fuckin' knights.

However, he's already moving away by the time I connect my sword. I give him a nice slice, though.

"What in the name of Ashera was that?!" He's seemingly shocked out of his previous rage at my clicking. Serves him right. Then he grins. "Maybe this will be a good fight, after all." He throws his javelin with a burst of speed, which I click away from. I once again try to finish him quickly with a hit to the neck, but he learns fast.

"Not that simple, Kyser. You won't be going anywhere with predictability like that." He sneers at me. I glare back.

"I can fight forever. Can you?" I lazily smile. "I don't even need to worry about dying of wounds or collapsing because of exhaustion. I'm just that good."

"But, what do you have, Maijin? Heavy armor? Limited energy? Now, I _wonder_ how long it'll take before you collapse, hm? What do you think?" My previously lazy grin turns devilish.

"How... DARE YOU?! I'LL DESTROY YOU, INVINCIBLE OR NOT!" Maijin launches fo _rwards that's way too fast for somebody wearing that heavy armor what in the name of the sweet mother of fucking bullshittery is this?!_

I leap back- probably too far- as his javelin zooms forwards to where my chest had been only moments before. I leap back again, and a third time. Then...

 _Click!_

I'm right behind him, swinging as soon as I'm there. I catch the gap between his armor around the shoulder, luckily enough, and he yelps with pain.

Then, he outright kicks me in the gut and stabs me in the forearm.

 _Click!_

I'm standing a bit further away than before, injury-free. Damn, he's too good. I can't beat him at this rate, bullshit power or not.

The fight rages on in a back-and-forth like this for a couple minutes. I might get a lucky hit in, I'll click whenever I get injured, you get the idea. Maijin's been getting pretty bloodied throughout the exchange.

Of course, all good things come to an end. He successfully predicts where I'll be next and throws a javelin into my leg. I try to click out, but the click doesn't go far enough... or something. Unsure as to how to word this.

Anyways, Maijin is now holding a javelin- one of his last ones- to my neck. "Surrender." He huffs, exhausted. I wince and drop my weapons.

"You win. Good job." I grin shakily.

He punches me in the face, and everything goes dark. The last thing I see is somebody wearing white running up to Maijin.

* * *

 **Potential ideas:**

 **-Killing Geoffrey. I wasn't sure I would be able to write this one.**

 **-Force-Conscripting Conor? Felt stolen from Spellbinding Radiance, though it was a logical idea since the Daein Army knew of Conor's stand. It's also still up in the air, so if you think it's a good idea, go ahead and say so.**

 **-Kieran, Brom _or_ Nephenee dying in the 'last stand'. Didn't happen, but it was an idea I had.**

 **Thank you to:**

 **si-mania, for following the story.**

 **lucsld, for following the story.**

 **Feels good man.**

 **Notably, this chapter is about a thousand words longer than the previous chapter.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Yay for the fifth chapter! Or maybe not so yay, because writing this chapter was not fun. And that's not to say it was hard to write, that's to say I felt super uncomfortable with the first segment of this chapter.**

* * *

Next thing I know, somebody's splashing cold water on my face.

"Wake up, prisoner." The voice is deep, and filled with something I can only say is... cruelty. "I'm going to have some _fun_ with you." Yep, that was the right word for it. I note the sound of an empty bucket clanging.

I slowly open my eyes. My vision is blurry, and all I can make out from my current position are the black boots of my captor.

I'm suspended by my arms by what I think are chains. My legs are similarly fastened to the ground.

I slowly look up and find a Knight- no, a General- standing before me. His face... is not unlike a pig's. He's got a malicious smirk going on, as well. His head seems misshapen.

It takes me a couple moments to figure out what precisely happened; My fellow soldiers and I had been captured, and this man was one of our captors. It's only a couple seconds more before I recall who this guy is.

He's... Danomill, I believe, and he's the one who loves his prison to a creepy degree. He was memorable, in that way.

"So. This is the prison I was carted off to? How quaint." I'm grimacing on the inside, but grinning at Danomill on the out.

"Quaint? How _dare_ you?! My dungeon is top notch! Perfectly designed! Impregnable! HOW DARE YOU INSULT MY BEAUTIFUL DUNGEON?!" The warden shrieks, visibly shaking with rage. Fuck, that's an awful short temper.

"Hm. I see. Can I leave?" I tiredly request.

"NO!" Danomill replies, his voice loud enough to be hurting my ears.

"Shit, man, could you quiet down? Some people don't plan on getting hearing damage, y'know." I mutter, glaring at the offending man.

I'm about to start laughing at how pissed he's getting when he socks me in the face. With an armored fist. Yeah.

"ARGH! FUCKIN' SHIT!" I yell, jerking to the side from the force of the punch. I don't want to deal with this pain, so fuck it.

 _Click!_

I'm back to my original position, pain-free. Lovely!

Danomill's angry frown has become swapped for a grin filled with twisted glee. "Eheeeheheha! Just what I wanted to see! That ability of yours, oh that wonderful, wonderful ability! I can torture you as much as I want because of it and it's oh so wonderful!" He's vibrating with anticipation.

I think I underestimated this guy.

The warden- no, the _madman_ \- stalks towards a tool rack on the wall, rambling about how much 'fun' he'll have.

Wait, a tool rack? Oh, fuck. Oh, _fuck_.

"So, lovely prisoner of mine, what would you like first? Perhaps, my latest invention? I call it the Danomill Cradle, after me-hee-hee~!" He gestures to something next to the tool rack that looks like a stool with a pyramid place on top of it. "Or perhaps the lovely torture rack- such a classic, it is. Pulls your arms right off!" Yep, that's the torture rack all right.

"C-could I, ah, see my other options, please?" I shakily ask.

"Oh, that wouldn't be any problem, my friend, my friend! Perhaps you're more interested in the rats, hmmmmm?" He wildly waves his arms over to a cage of rats next to what seems to be an unlit firepit- oh shit, I've heard of that one. The rats escape from the lit fire by burrowing their way through the victim's torso.

"Don't, er, don't you have any less... long-lasting torture methods?" I inquire, uncontrollably shaking. Please say yes.

"Ah, you must be looking for mutilation or beating! Yes, I can do that. Not a problem, my friend, my friend!" He moves over to the tool rack and wiggles his fingers around

creepily for a few moments before grabbing a whip. "Yes, yes, this should suffice, will it not?" His grin is even more crazed than before, somehow.

I nod out of fear.

The next few hours are filled with my pained yells, the cracks of a whip, the clicks of my ability, and Danomill's crazed laughter.

I... wish I had the willpower to not use my ability. Then the torture would've stopped sooner. It finally stopped when I blacked out.

* * *

I groan as I come to, rubbing at my head. "Wha' ha'ened?" I mumble out.

I try to push myself into a sitting position, but immediately wince and collapse back down to the stone floor. I suppose the torture didn't s- oh god, the torture.

"Um..." A quiet voice comes from somewhere in the room I can't place.

"E-eh? Whozzere?" My speech is slurring together- probably the aches combined with mental exhaustion.

"Er- Ah'm- Uh, Iiiii'm Nephenee." Oh, I'm in the same cell as Nephenee. Makes some sense, I guess. "Are you alright? You looked to've been in a pretty bad spot when they tossed ya in here."

"I'm... yeah, I'm alright, nothing's wrong whatsoever." I manage out, faking a grin. Danomill definitely took a while to stop after I conked out. It hurts so much, so much, so much. I slowly struggle my way to a wall to sit up against. Once I'm successfully sitting up, I try to make my expression more genuine. "See? Absolutely okay. A-okay!"

"Ah ain't believin' that junk. You're hurtin' bad." Nephenee... seems really concerned, surprisingly enough. We literally just met.

"Nah, I'm good. I told you, I'm comp-" I cut myself off by violently coughing. I mean really violently, too, there's a little blood coming out. "Okay... m-maybe not so fine."

"Wh-what happened to ya? Coughin' up blood- that's t-terrible!" Nephenee is shaking at the sight, probably wondering if it could happen to her. Or maybe she really is concerned about her... 'fellow Crimean'. I dunno.

"Eh, just a bit of torture, that's all. I-I'll be perfectly fine. No worries!" I give a shaky grin. I doubt that anybody besides myself and Kieran will get tortured, anyway. Kieran because he was captain, and I've already gotten proof I'm on the torture list. "Anyways, the name's Conor. Nice to meet you, Nephenee."

"Right. Nice t'meet you, too, I s'ppose." Nephenee replies apprehensively. Fair enough; I did just cough of blood, after all.

The conversation awkwardly ended after that, neither of us endeavoring to revive it.

* * *

Turns out prison is really fucking boring when conversations with your cellmate end awkwardly every fucking time. What's worse is that we can't just let the awkwardness fade from separation because, y'know, we're locked in the same room. I don't really have Danomill's torture to interrupt these awkward silences, which sounds weird to say and it definitely _is_ weird to say.

Also, yeah. Danomill's torture sessions are two days out of every week, two days of _his_ choosing. Apparently, it's a limit imposed by some higher-ups to stop him from driving prisoners insane before they can release information. Thank you, Danomill's superiors. You're decent people.

Not sure why the guard decided to tell me, though. Maybe he pitied me? He might've wanted me to get really tense, worrying about being snatched away for torture at any time. Which I'm not, by the way. Nope. Not at all. Not thinking about it.

It's been... I don't know, three days since Danomill first tortured me? There aren't really any windows in this cell.

Fuck it, back to sleep. Nephenee already is asleep, and I just woke up from a nightmare which I will not disclose, because fuck that nightmare, man.

Sleep.

* * *

 **Since Conor's locked up in prison, I have the highly enjoyable job of figuring out just how long it would take for Ike and his bunch to finally reach the prison, in Chapter 10.**

 **Now you're probably thinking that it's just a six chapter gap between the chapter the Mercenaries are on (Chapter 4, Roadside Battle) and Prisoner Release (Chapter 10), but in that time they got to Gallia and back. Which could potentially take... a ridiculous time, if I were being realistic. I'm not, by the way. Not good for Conor, as you may guess.**

 **Now, Chapter 5 (Flight!) happens the night after Chapter 4 (not the night _of_ ) because I assume Elincia slept through to the next day before waking up.**

 **Unfortunately, the gap between Chapter 5 and Chapter 6 (A Brief Diversion) isn't so easy. I decided to give it a six or seven-day gap. I don't have to be precise because Conor isn't exactly keeping track of time.**

 **Luckily for me, the gap between Chapter 6 and Chapter 7 (Shades of Evil) is incredibly easy! They take place on the same day, or maybe the day after, but it's more likely later the same day.**

 **Chapter 7 and Chapter 8 (Despair and Hope) are considerably more iffy. It's very... unexact as to what the time frame between the two chapters is. Greil dies in between Chapters 7 and 8, which means I need to figure out how long it takes for Daein to attack. I decided that it took maybe two days for the attack to take place, which is just enough time for Greil to have a funeral and for Ike to steel his resolve. There are a couple other factors I'm probably forgetting, as well.**

 **Chapter 8 and Chapter 9 (Gallia) are completely unclear. I decided another two-day gap for it. Not really any reason for that decision.**

 **And finally, the time between Chapter 9 and Chapter 10! Ten days. Yep. Ten days. They're going from Castle Gallia all the way to some miscellaneous castle in Crimea, after all. Now, let me add that up.**

 **Twenty-one to twenty-three days. So, twenty-two for averaging's sake. Definitely looks reasonable, but probably not actually realistic.**

 **Also, I'm tempted to rewrite this chapter and remove some of the details on Danomill's torture tools. I don't want people thinking I actually like to write torture scenes because I only wrote that due to the fact that Danomill is clearly obsessed with torture, and it's a medieval setting.**

 **Here are the thank-yous:**

 **Thank you to StoryCrafteer, for following and favoriting this story.**

 **Thank you to smily072000, for following and favoriting this story.**

 **Thank you to creaturehunter, for following this story.**

 **You guys are awesome.**

 **Seriously, though. Writing that torture scene made me feel super fucking uncomfortable, even though I skipped past the actual torture.**


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